


Masks

by ssrhpurgatory



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: (except he’s William Carter because this is the early 90s), Albert Bennett (another terrible OC), Costume Parties & Masquerades, Crossdressing, F/M, Marcus Cutter - Freeform, Masks, Pining, Public Sex, Sometimes you can’t be with the person you love, because the evil corporation you work for sees love as weakness, minor characters include - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:21:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22399258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssrhpurgatory/pseuds/ssrhpurgatory
Summary: Originally written/posted to Tumblr as part of a 2018 Kinktober meme, day 1, Masks; backdated to hopefully take it off recent works search. Vaguely based off of Missives, except a version where Rosemary actually kisses people I guess.Goddard has a masquerade ball to celebrate the launch of the Hermes... and Alexander Hilbert uses it as an opportunity to connect with a woman he cannot openly be with.
Relationships: Alexander Hilbert/Original Female Character





	Masks

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Missives from the Black](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21509380) by [ssrhpurgatory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssrhpurgatory/pseuds/ssrhpurgatory). 



“A masquerade?” Dr. Kelley asked, sounding incredulous. “What on earth is Mr. Carter thinking?”

Rosemary shrugged. “That the chance to dress up and wear masks and mess around in a dim-lit ballroom will encourage mixing and give people a much-needed opportunity to blow off some steam, at least once the parts for the Hermes have been launched.”

Dr. Kelley scoffed. “It is ridiculous. I refuse to participate.”

“Attendance is mandatory, Kelley, so I expect to see you there.”

“Is not the purpose of a masquerade to conceal ones appearance and identity? How would you ever tell I was missing?”

“Carter will know,” she said, smiling at him. “Carter always knows.” Rosemary looked him up and down, a brief contemplative flick of the eyes, and he blushed under her perusal. “In any case, you're awfully distinctive. I'm pretty sure I could spot you from a mile off.”

Dr. Kelley didn't respond to that jab, but his jaw firmed, and Rosemary almost wanted to laugh. He'd obviously taken her words as a challenge.

Well, good, Rosemary thought as she left his lab. Time to see if Karl Kelley could come up with a disguise good enough to fool her.

Or maybe she was just hoping that he might come up with a disguise good enough to fool Mr. Carter. After all, Mr. Carter had outright warned her more than once that her attachment to Dr. Kelley was too strong and would do no favors to her career at Goddard… or Dr. Kelley’s, for that matter.

But in the dark mix of a decadent and utterly ridiculous masquerade ball, an event meant to break down some of the artificial barriers and cliques that so often formed at Goddard… well, it would be so very easy to not realize who you were speaking to in that casual way, wouldn’t it? Why, sir, he was wearing a mask, I have no idea who I was dancing with like that.

Of course, if Mr. Carter ever found out what she had planned, he'd never buy her being fooled, not for long. Not when Dr. Kelley had such a distinctive voice.

But for just one night, Rosemary planned to throw caution to the wind again.

Karl could not help but find the thought of a masquerade ball utterly ridiculous, but something about the way Rosemary had challenged him made him reconsider his stance.

Her friend, Al, had enlightened Karl about her, back when she had broken things off with Karl. Al had said that Rosemary did not have space for anything but Goddard in her heart, and that anyone who encroached on that space had to be viciously pruned from her life.

But maybe… but maybe.

But maybe if Rosemary was given a dark room and a heady atmosphere and an excuse to not recognize him… well, who knew what might happen?

Karl put the test tube he'd been fiddling with down and went to call Al. After all, the man had said that if Karl ever needed any help…

“Yeah, sure, I can disguise you up right and tight,” Al said in a laughing voice to Dmitri’s request. “Now, how do you feel about wigs and colored contacts?”

It had been difficult to find the undergarments to make it work, but once she had, Rosemary’s new and newly tailored tux fit her like a dream. Add in lifts in the shoes and get rid of her usual regimented wig, throw on a mask and lower her voice, and she thought even the scientists from her lab wouldn't recognize her. After all, they'd all expect some cleavage-baring confection of a ball gown and a blinged-out mask, not a tux and a plain black mask that looked like it had come out of a cheap costume shop… probably because it had.

She figured that most of the male-presenting members of the company would end up in something similar, and for one night, she wanted to blend in with the crowd. That would never happen as a woman. But as a man? Well, she might have a chance.

Karl had protested somewhat when Al showed up the night of the masquerade with a tux and a plain white mask. The brown contacts and wig at least made sense; most of the population was brown-haired and brown-eyed, and the pool of Goddard’s employees was no different. But Karl had expected some outlandish costume, not a tux and a cheap white mask to go with it.

“You're thinking about this the wrong way,” Al said with a laugh. “The point when putting together a really good disguise is to make sure you blend in with the crowd, not stand out from it.”

“And which do you intend to do?” Karl had asked.

“Oh, I always stand out, whether I'm trying to or not. Might as well stand out even more.”

Karl frowned and looked down at the mask Al had provided for him. “Why white? Would not black allow me to blend in even more?”

Al shook his head. “Nah, this is one place it doesn't hurt to stand out a little. You're a pale man, doc. It'll make your skin seem a little darker in comparison.”

“Very well. Now, tell me, how does one attach a fake beard like this?”

Al laughed again, and together they got Karl ready for the masquerade.

When they were done, Karl looked in the mirror and almost did not recognize himself. Brown hair, sideburns, a neat little goatee that looked quite devilish, all of it looking rather peculiar until he put his mask on because, as Al said, there wasn't much of a point in adding fake eyebrows if they were going to be squashed under a mask all night. Al had added thin, dark lines of eyeliner around Karl’s eyes, though, and once the mask was on Karl could almost believe the hair was his natural state.

“Is it always this itchy?” he complained, resisting the urge to swipe the goatee off his face.

Al shrugged. “Only when it's growing in, but you mostly get to where you can ignore it. I guess you wouldn't be used to that, though. Think you can tolerate it for one evening?”

Karl almost said no, but then he remembered that quick, speculative look Rosemary had given him when she had been in his lab telling him about the masquerade, and the no caught in his throat. If there was a chance, the smallest chance, that Rosemary might be willing—might be able—to take him back to her bed for one night? He thought he would tolerate much more than some itchy fake hair for that chance. “Yes,” he told Al, and Al gave him a speculative look and a little grin that said he knew exactly what was on Karl’s mind. And then, he left instructions for removing everything once the night was over and went off to his own preparations.

As usual for Goddard social events, Rosemary was one of the first people to arrive, though the novelty of the event meant that the number of early arrivals was much larger than normal. They were all curious about what sort of extravaganza Mr. Carter had planned, and whether it would live up to the promise the premise had held. And Mr. Carter’s planning did not disappoint; the largest event room on Goddard’s campus had been made-over completely, chandeliers attached to the high ceilings, draperies hiding the florescent lights that normally lit the room. Around the perimeter of the room, screens and curtains and potted plants created dark little corners, some with furniture, some just large enough for a few people to stand and talk, making it clear that Mr. Carter was completely aware how many people had needed to set aside their usual little arrangements in the rush to get the Hermes spaceready, and how many of them would be starting them up again or making new ones now that the project was complete. To complete the ballroom illusion, a small stage had been set up at the end of the room with a string quartet on it.

Mr. Carter had dressed himself entirely in white, looking almost angelic with his golden head of curls and wide blue eyes. He spotted Rosemary the moment she arrived, and swooped down on her. “Why, Rosemary, how _novel_.”

“Thank you, sir,” Rosemary said, testing out the low, gravely tone of voice she’d decided was a necessary part of the outfit.

“You will definitely be upsetting some betting pools tonight,” he said, and then the other part of Rosemary’s costume entered; a young, dark-skinned Latina woman named Lidia who worked in the finance department, and who, at only an inch or two taller than Rosemary and of a a similar girth, fit remarkably well in the giant, frothy ballgown that had been Rosemary’s first choice before the brainstorm that had resulted in the tux.

Carter let out a low chuckle at the sight. “Oh, I see. What _fun_. Subterfuge and misdirection. Have you been taking lessons from Al, Rosemary?”

Rosemary shrugged. “Nothing of the sort. I heard her saying she couldn’t afford anything nice, and that dress is two years old anyway.”

Carter waved Rosemary off. “Well, have fun, my dear. I do hope the evening won’t be _too_ disappointing for you.”

Rosemary felt a low shiver of unease travel down her spine at that, but she smiled at Mr. Carter and gave him a little bow. “I am certain it will not,” she said, and turned away to make her way into the growing crowd.

Karl arrived a little late to the masquerade, slipping in with a crowd of other late-comers, everyone dressed to the nines, though some quite outlandishly. Al, for example, towered a full head over everyone around him, dressed in devilish red and shining gold, great horns swooping back over his head from the top of a draconic mask. But Al had been right about one thing; most of the men in the room were in some variation of Karl’s outfit. Some had augmented their tuxes with brightly-colored vests and bow ties, but the overall impression was that every man in the company had gotten the same memo on what to wear that night.

Once in the ballroom, he cast about, looking for Rosemary. Across the room, he heard a loud laugh, caught sight of the flare of a gauze skirt, and he smiled. Rosemary was always so easy to find at these events. He started making his way across the ballroom towards her, drifting around the edge, shifting direction when it became clear that Rosemary had taken to the dance floor with someone and coming to a halt in a corner where he could keep an eye on her as she traveled around the ballroom in her partner’s arms.

Rosemary heard a low whistle from behind her, and turned to find Al looking her up and down speculatively. “You’re going to give him a hell of a thrill like that,” he said, grinning at her. “Might even kill the poor man.”

“I don’t know who you mean,” she said, but she could see Al’s eyes crinkle in amusement through the eyeholes of his oversized mask and she knew she wasn’t fooling him for a second.

He looked her over again. “The sideburns are a nice touch. Add a little interest without going so far it looks fake.” He tilted his head to one side. “Rosie, if your Dr. Kelley doesn’t want to take you up on what you’re offering tonight, come find me, you hear?”

Rosemary laughed a little at that. “He’s not my Dr. Kelley, but I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, her usual response to Al’s jibe about Dr. Kelley being hers falling a little bit flat, considering what she had planned for the evening.

Al leaned down, the long snout of his mask resting next to Rosemary’s ear for a moment as he growled, “Good hunting, Rosie.”

“You too, Al,” she said, with a little smile. “Go capture yourself a princess. Or a prince.”

“I’m hoping for at least one of each tonight,” Al said, and then he was gone, spinning off into the crowd.

Karl had been watching Rosemary dance for a few minutes when he suddenly realized something was wrong. She was just a little too tall, even considering the fact that she must be wearing her highest heels, and what little of her face he could see was was too narrow. He stood on his toes and peered over the crowd at her, then frowned. That was definitely not Rosemary.

Then where was she? He cast about the room, but his current vantage point didn’t reveal Rosemary, so he slipped out of his corner and started moving again, traveling the perimeter of the room, keeping an eye out for Rosemary’s round, pleasant figure in the crowd. Here and there he thought he spotted her, a flash of dark skin, a pair of red lips, but every time he got close, the woman he had thought from a distance was Rosemary turned out to be someone completely unfamiliar to him under her mask.

Rosemary had to be there, he found himself thinking. She would not miss a mandatory event, not for anything. And more than that, there had been that look she had given him, when she was demanding he attend the masquerade; surely she would not have looked at him like that and not meant to carry out the intentions it implied.

“Looking for someone, stranger?” came a low voice to one side, a voice that shivered down his spine and left him feeling weak in the knees. He turned to find a short, handsome man in a tux eying him, eyes speculative behind a black mask. And then the man grinned at him, and all of his breath left him in a rush, because it was Rosemary in that tux, under that mask, the gray of her own short-cropped hair exposed and shining in the dim light of the ballroom instead of hiding under a wig. “What a handsome devil you are,” she murmured, taking a step closer to him. “What say you and me slip off to some dark corner and get to know each other a little better?”

Karl’s mouth went dry. And then he nodded, and without further preamble Rosemary turned and lead the way to a dark little alcove, just large enough for the two of them to stand side by side, set aside from the rest of the ballroom by a drapery. Once there, she turned back towards him and took his hands, pulling him up hard against her body, the spicy scent of the cologne she was wearing strange to him, the shape of her body unfamiliar under the tux she was wearing, pushed and compressed into a more masculine form. There was even a strange lump between her legs that made him wonder what exactly she was wearing under the suit. And then, she slid her hands up his arms, to his shoulders, pulling his face down towards hers, and it felt so strange, the little tugs on his chin as the hairs of the goatee Al had applied brushed against her face.

Rosemary seemed to agree; she let out a little laugh. “Mmm, that tickles.” And then she kissed him, slow, soft, gentle, the exploratory kisses of someone who was testing out the idea of kissing a new partner. Karl followed her lead for a moment, but the feel of her mouth against his after so long without her was too much to bear, and he found he had to taste her, opening his mouth against hers, slipping the tip of his tongue out to tease the corner of her mouth. She opened under him with a gasp and a little moan, and suddenly the kiss they were sharing was that of old lovers, long familiar with exactly what would bring their partner to their knees in pleasure. Rosemary stepped deeper into the drapes until she found the wall, sagging back against it, drawing Karl with her, and he pressed his weight into her in turn, listening to her low moans as he ravaged her mouth with passionate kisses. The stiff length of whatever she had packed into the trousers of her tuxedo pressed against his hips, and after some swift and necessary adjustments to his trousers, his own erection lay alongside it, the friction as he thrust gently at her stomach almost driving him mad with want.

Rosemary’s hand slipped between them, finding the zipper on his trousers, undoing the button on his boxers. And then, her hand was on him, around him, and Karl broke away from the kiss to curse and thrust up against her hand. “Here?” he asked, his voice shaky, and Rosemary nodded, then let go of his cock, taking him by the elbows to turn them around each other, so that his back was to the wall now. Karl sagged back against the wall himself, all he was apparently capable of as she knelt in front of him and took him in her mouth.

It had been so long, and the moment was so strange, Rosemary’s eyes looking up at him through that mask, the masculine form of her body beneath the tux. It had been so long, and though the pleasure was intense, he could not help but regret how quickly it was over, how soon his orgasm hit. After he finished, Rosemary stood and tucked him carefully back inside his pants, and then kissed him again, and the taste of himself on her was as arousing as tasting her once again had been.

“May I see?” he asked, reaching down between them to rub his hand along the lump in her trousers, and she nodded, so they switched places once again, her up against the wall and him kneeling in front of her as he unzipped her. He discovered once he had that she had chosen briefs, so he undid the button of her trousers as well, sliding both underwear and trousers down her hips, revealing the strap-on underneath, the remarkably realistic appendage she had outfitted herself with. Karl found himself thinking fondly on the nights she had taken him, back during that time they had spent together, and as he slid a hand underneath the strap-on, finding her slick and wet beneath his fingers, he gave in to the urge to tease her visually and took the head of her fake cock into his mouth, treating it as he would a real one. To his surprise, Rosemary responded to this, or perhaps just to his fingers, which he slid inside her without resistance; she groaned and thrust against him, and he took a little more of the strap-on in to his mouth.

There was the rustle of curtains behind him, and there was a muffled “Whoops, so sorry!” followed by giggles, but Rosemary was now moaning and thrusting against him as his fingers worked at her cunt and Karl couldn’t bring himself to care that someone had seen them like this. After all, it was dark in their alcove, and both of them were wearing masks, and as far as whoever it had been was concerned, they probably thought they had seen a pair of men enjoying themselves together.

Karl knew he should not have been hard again so quickly, not at his age, but he was, and as public as this space was, as unwise as he knew the action to be, he did not think he could resist the urge to fuck Rosemary, not when it would be so easy, not when a chance like this might not come again. So he stood, and turned her to face the wall, dropping his own trousers, bending her forward, and thrusting into her without preamble. Rosemary let out a choked moan, and then there was the sound of her panting breath coming hard through clenched teeth as he started to work in her. He reached around and took the fake cock she was wearing in hand, pressing and grinding the base of it against her, and she let out a little yelp of surprise followed by a low groan that let him know that it was most definitely resting right against her clitoris, and that she was most definitely enjoying what he was doing to it. She came hard, her cunt compressing around him, tight and glorious, and with a few more quick thrusts he found his own release once more.

Rosemary let out an exhausted, delighted little laugh, and there was the sound of her shuffling through a pocket, then she handed him a wad of tissues over her shoulder that he used to clean up the mess. She straightened up when he had finished and pulled the briefs and trousers back on, then turned and smiled up at him, her clothing remarkably unrumpled, the only sign of their fierce and desperate coupling in her face, which almost seemed to be glowing behind the mask. “Well, stranger,” she said, “That was a hell of a thing.”

Karl laughed, pulling his own trousers up one-handed while the other hand held the messy tissues off to one side. He wrapped the cleanest tissue around the lot and thrust it into his pocket for later disposal, then stepped in close to her, as close as he could get, before leaning down to whisper against her mouth, “I do not think you can still call me stranger after that.”

“Probably not,” she whispered back, the glow fading, her eyes suddenly desperate for a moment, “But I’d like you to remain a stranger just a little bit longer.”

She took him by the hand and lead him out of their alcove, and he followed her, out of the ballroom full of dancers, out of the building, across the campus to the apartment building they called home. He tried to remove his mask once they were out in the night air, but Rosemary turned and stopped him, so he left it in place.

Rosemary stopped in front of Karl’s apartment door instead of her own, looking up at him longingly, and he unlocked the door and pulled her in after him, pressing her up against the wall just inside so he could lean down and kiss her, the slow, careful, exploratory kisses they had started the evening with.

The masks remained on. And Rosemary spent the rest of the night in his bed, slipping away in the early hours of the morning, leaving behind a black mask on the pillow and the spicy smell of her cologne.

It was not the scent of her, but as Karl pressed his nose to the pillow and breathed it in, it was almost good enough.

After all, it smelled like rosemary.


End file.
